Saturday, March 10, 2018



On the Fifth Floor


when the putrefied loneliness of each morning

thunders inside your skull.

On the fifth floor of a drab apartment building

in a notorious proletarian district,

poetry restores to you the migratory instinct

of small gray birds.

How much love

              "When must everything depart from us?

               Does everything abandon us?"

(yes, time once held cherry trees and ivy).

In your rabbit-like shamelessness

what kind of death

did you make your bedfellow in these recent years?

Oh, poor earthbound terror!


when inside your skull, like a miracle,

you feast on yourself.

There will come a time for frost and for the snout,

a time for the whip that lashes your cheek

and for small gray pigs.


Mariana Marin
Paper Children
translated from the Romanian by Adam J. Sorkin
Ugly Duckling Presse, 2006

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